


this is what you do to me

by faithtastic



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Coitus Interruptus, Ear Fetish, F/F, Five Kisses, Fluff, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Spoilers, excessive use of Dalish profanity and terms of endearment, more like five hundred kisses, really a lot of kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 08:38:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3113309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithtastic/pseuds/faithtastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Naevys Lavellan kisses Josephine Montilyet. (They're in love, pass it on.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is what you do to me

**Author's Note:**

> These two own my soul. I don't even feel bad about peddling this utter fluff.
> 
> Title from the song by Gemma Hayes, which is almost as lovely as Josephine.

A barely-there touch of fingers tracing her ear, following the edge to its tapering point, causes Naevys to shiver.

"Are you cold?" Josephine asks between kisses. The faintly cloying taste of wine still clings to her lips, making them all the more irresistible. The half-finished bottle of a rare Tevinter vintage sits on the desk, quite forgotten. "The hearth is burning low. I could send for more firewood if - "

"No," Naevys says, gently tugging the other woman closer by the waist before she moves out of reach. Being parted from her company for a moment longer than necessary is intolerable. Four days Naevys had been knee-deep in stagnant Ferelden bog water and the only thing that kept her going through the whole miserable experience was the thought of Josephine and the memory of sweet kisses. "It's not that."

Her cheeks are flushed and it has nothing to do with the temperature of her quarters. In the firelight the colour of Josephine's eyes are ever-shifting. This close, there is nowhere to hide from their keen stare.

"It's - my ears." Naevys clears her throat. "They're um... quite sensitive."

The ambassador's expression is the picture of neutrality. Then, after a moment: “I... see."

Heart in her throat, Naevys watches as Josephine very deliberately lifts her hand to repeat her earlier caress. Naevys's grip tightens on the other woman’s waist, dimly aware that she's probably scoring the delicate silk fabric beneath blunt fingernails.

"Should I stop, your Worship?" Josephine says. Her voice, that accent, wraps around them like warm honey. Naevys had missed hearing it so much, it was almost like a physical ache.

She presses closer, a hitching breath edging out when Josephine's fingers sweep over the tip of her ear again. Creators, it's almost too much and too little at the same time.

"Nuvenin ma sahlin," Naevys says, with something embarrassingly close to a moan. Though she's certain Josephine doesn't follow the exact translation of the words, the slow-blooming smile on her face shows Josephine must have some inkling of the meaning. "I'm not sure I can be held accountable for my actions if you don't. Fair warning, Lady Montilyet."

Their eyes catch and hold, a significant look passing between them. "In that case perhaps I should take my leave, my lady. The hour is growing late and I have much work still to do." 

Naevys grasps blindly for the hand beside her ear, never lifting her eyes from Josephine's. "Don't go." She brings that hand to her lips, bestowing a kiss on each knuckle. "All I think about is you. Mythal knows I should be more concerned with Corypheus and the world ending but whenever I'm away I can't help wondering if you're missing me half as much as I'm longing for you."

It's probably revealing too much, too soon. It's worth it, though, for the way Josephine's gaze dips, the loveliest of blushes staining her cheeks. 

It still surprises Naevys, this side of Josephine. The ambassador's capable of making Orlesian nobles shake in their boots with a few cutting remarks, has ended marriages, provoked feuds, and turned prominent families into social pariahs through the medium of  _letter_ , yet to be on the receiving end of an intimate confession has her adorably flustered. 

"The things you say..." Josephine murmurs, releasing a demure laugh. "Sometimes you leave me quite lost for words. It is a rather confounding predicament for a diplomat to find herself in."

Naevys lets her eyes roam across Josephine's face, taking in the scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, the elegant arch of her brow, the curve of slightly parted lips. She's perfect, absolutely perfect in every way.

"This - us - I want to do it right. I can't pretend any knowledge of human customs but I want to... court you. Is that the right term?"

"I - yes, that is correct but, really, there is no need to enter into such formalities. As long as we are discreet there should be no impediment." 

"A woman of such beauty and refinement deserves to be wooed, even in private."

"Goodness, you flatter me. I'm curious, among your people how does one declare romantic intentions?"

Naevys lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Normally we just slaughter a creature of the forest and present it as an offering." Off the slightly horrified look she receives, Naevys smiles. "A joke. For the most part."

Josephine makes a displeased noise and Naevys leans in to intercept the pout forming on her lips with a kiss. One that melds into another and another until they quite lose track of time. 

It's fallen pitch dark outside by the time they retreat. Naevys allows the other woman space to compose herself, smooth out rumpled clothes and hair.

They linger by the door as they say goodnight, clasping hands, reluctant to relinquish their hold on one another. 

"I do miss you." Josephine admits softly. Her expression is half in shadow. "So I throw myself into my duties otherwise I would spend all my days praying for your safe return. Every time I watch you go I try to remind myself that the work you are doing is vital, certainly more important than my feelings."

"Nothing matters more to me than you." Naevys emphasises the point with a squeeze of Josephine's hands. "The idea of you fretting about me... well, I won't deny I like that you care so much but I don't want you to worry."

The ambassador leans in, shying away from waiting lips at the last second and places a tender kiss on Naevys's cheek. "Then, please, do be careful."

 

 

***

 

“My Lady Inquisitor, I beg your pardon. A moment of your time, if you please?"

Naevys glances over her shoulder to see Josephine looking a tad agitated, not that it would be apparent to the untrained eye. The woman is expert at presenting a calm façade, which is why she regularly fleeces them all at Wicked Grace, card shark that she is. 

The Inquisitor gives a half bow to the fawning dignitaries in her company and excuses herself.

She follows Josephine out into the vestibule, to a relatively secluded corner. "Is everything all right?" 

Aware that the eyes of the Imperial Court are upon them, she makes sure to keep a respectful distance despite her instinct to reach for Josephine. Their relationship isn't exactly clandestine but an heir to a noble house of the Montilyets' standing being openly involved with an elf, a Dalish one at that, is still considered scandalous. Better not to provide the gossips with ammunition.

"You will think this silly but I..." The ambassador trails off and drops her gaze. She shakes her head, seemingly wrestling with some internal struggle. "Oh, this is most unbecoming. Please, excuse my intrusion. You should return to your investigations."

"Now you're really worrying me. Josephine, what's the matter?"

A long pause, then Josephine begins in a rush: "I did not expect it would affect me like this. Seeing you dancing with all these lords and ladies, watching them flirt and drape themselves all over you.”

A smile tugs at Naevys's lips as she observes the other woman’s momentary loss of composure, hears the undercurrent of scorn in her words, so at odds with her usually sweet disposition. "Lady Montilyet, are you jealous?"

"I - no. Yes. I meant, no.” Josephine sighs. "Maybe a little."

Unable to contain her mirth, Naevys laughs quietly.

Sharp eyes glance at her in rebuke. "Do not mock me. Between Yvette's propensity for indiscretion and this conversation, my mortification is now complete."

"I'm not making fun of you," Naevys says but she can't stop the smile growing. "I haven't ever seen you like this. All... possessive. I like it."

Josephine folds her arms and looks away. "I'm so glad my discomfort brings you such amusement. Perhaps you should return to your admirers; Comtess Du Valeyeon is making quite the spectacle of herself trying to make your acquaintance."

Despite the other woman's souring mood, Naevys laughs again. "You're precious." She takes a step closer, reputations be damned. "There's only one person who holds my affection. And for the avoidance of doubt, that's you." Her eyes rake over Josephine in admiration. The dress uniform of the Inquisition is a bit of a shapeless thing (on that point she agrees with Vivienne and Dorian’s complaints) but Josephine manages to look dashing and gorgeous regardless. "I wish we didn't have such a captive audience."

Josephine tilts her head in question.

A whisper, "I really want to kiss you right now."

A dark blush comes to the ambassador's cheeks. She draws her lower lip between her teeth and casts a furtive glance around the room before she seems to settle on a decision. "Come with me."

Naevys doesn't have to be told twice. She waits a few moments, pretending to casually admire the décor (disgustingly ostentatious), before trailing after Josephine, following her to the wide staircase where they entered the Winter Palace. To the left and right are hallways. She hesitates.

There's a noise. "Psst."

She turns, hears it again, follows it to its origin.

As soon as she rounds the corner, two hands grab her firmly by the jacket and pull her bodily into a darkened alcove.

"Wha-" before she can give voice to her alarm she's being soundly and thoroughly kissed. It lasts the span of a few heartbeats then she's released, leaving her panting softly against the shape of a familiar mouth.

"Forgive me, I don't know what came over me - I - "

Naevys fixes a stray lock of hair that's escaped Josephine's braid in the tussle then traces her jaw tenderly. "You have nothing to fear, truly. I won't lose my head over the first person that flutters their lashes at me. Mythal, don't you know what you do to me?"

Naevys leans up for another kiss as she captures Josephine's hand and brings it flat against her stomach. Feels rather than hears Josephine's sharp intake of breath as Naevys pushes it down, under the waistband of her trousers and inside her smallclothes.

"Oh my." A shaky exhale escapes Josephine's lips as fingertips come into contact with slick warmth. " _Naevys_."

Just the way her name is uttered has Naevys gasping quietly. "This is for of you."

They kiss again, a desperate edge to it, as Naevys rocks her hips upwards, causing Josephine's fingers to glide against her. Someone whimpers and Naevys isn't sure whether it's her or Josephine. Those fingers shift, raking once, twice through damp curls before dipping into the wetness gathered between Naevys's legs.

Naevys deepens the kiss, licking into Josephine's mouth as the other woman's middle finger makes a fleeting pass over her clit. Thankfully her answering moan is smothered by Josephine's lips. 

It takes everything she has to resist tangling her hands in Josephine's hair, instead latching on to her shoulders and clinging for dear life. 

She's so lost in the moment she almost doesn't hear the sound of a throat being cleared nearby. Feminine. They spring apart instantly and attempt to rearrange their clothes.

"And here you can see an example of the original cornicing," Josephine says, gesturing to the ceiling as Leliana appears around the corner.

"That's... fascinating," Naevys says, tapping her chin. She pretends to suddenly notice the spymaster's arrival. "Ah, hello Sister Leliana. Lady Montilyet was just giving me a guided tour of the Palace."

Josephine's smile is a little too bright, too fixed. "Well, I suppose we should be getting back now."

"Oh no, don't let me interrupt. You were saying something about cornicing?"

Naevys and Josephine exchange a look, knowing full well that Leliana isn't fooled by this charade. "Really, let us return. People will talk."

Leliana folds her arms, lip curling in a sly smirk. "Maker forbid. Of course the fact the two of you sneaked away like a pair of frisky adolescents has probably already set tongues wagging."

"Ah." Josephine stares at the floor, rubs at the back of her neck.

"I should, um..." Naevys gestures towards the corridor and sidesteps past Leliana. "See you later."

Once she's around the corner she hears an admonishing "Josie!" accompanied by a girlish laugh. 

 

 

***

 

Naevys sits on the edge of the ambassador's desk, not caring a jot about the missives becoming crumpled under her rear. 

Josephine is trying her very best to ignore her, head bent to the task before her. After a moment or two she sighs, "May I help you, Your Worship?"

"As a matter of fact..." Naevys plucks the quill from Josephine's hand, ignoring the impatient glare directed at her. She sets the quill behind her, out of reach. 

"I really am very busy. This correspondence cannot wait." One brow lifts artfully. "Unless you'd rather I delayed the formal acceptance of Lord Otranto's withdrawal from our engagement?"

Naevys doesn't bite at that provocation. "You need to take a break once in while. The Inquisition won't fall if you leave your office for an hour."

"An hour?" Josephine exclaims. "That's impossible."

"I'm in charge around here, remember? If I decree you must stop work for an hour, maybe two, or the whole afternoon," at this, Josephine scoffs, "then it's the law." 

She reaches down to clasp Josephine's hands, pulling her smoothly from the chair and into a standing position. For all her protestations, Josephine doesn't resist in the slightest. Arms immediately loop around Naevys's shoulders and the ambassador leans against her. She rests her hands on Josephine's lower back, keeping her close.

The subtle floral scent of Josephine's perfume invades Naevys's senses, makes her light-headed. She noses along Josephine's jaw until she reaches the edge of a lobe. "In any case I believe we have some unfinished business to attend to," she whispers against Josephine's ear, feels the answering shudder along the length of her body.

Naevys drags her lips down Josephine's throat, her fingers coming up to loosen and discard the scarf knotted around Josephine's neck. She opens the first couple of buttons of the gold blouse, exposing the elegant line of a throat. Her mouth latches on to tender skin and she kisses a meandering path from the hollow of Josephine's throat to the underside of her chin. 

"I want you, so much." Another kiss, this time against parted lips.

"The feeling is quite mutual, I assure you," Josephine says, moving her hands to cradle Naevys's cheeks, guiding the kiss into deeper contact.

They kiss hotly, Josephine's tongue darting inside, as Naevys's hands slide down over her backside and give an impertinent squeeze.

"My quarters. We should go there," Naevys manages to get out eventually. "For privacy." Her brain feels addled but she muddles through. "Because I might kill someone if we get interrupted this time."

Josephine nods eagerly, pressing a final kiss to her mouth. "You go ahead, I'll be along in a few moments."

 

 

***

 

"Apologies, I was detained by-"

As soon as Josephine crests the stairs Naevys pounces, pulling the other woman into a kiss. Deft hands busy themselves with the sash around Josephine's waist, tugging it free and tossing it somewhere over Naevys's shoulder. The neck scarf, belts, and brocade dress coat are shed in quick succession. 

"By the Dread Wolf, why are your clothes so complicated? Why so many layers?" Naevys grumbles, fumbling once more with the buttons of Josephine's blouse. She wonders how cross Josephine would be if she just tore it open.

"Think of it as akin to unwrapping a gift. It adds to the anticipation," Josephine says, releasing a melodious laugh against Naevys's lips. "Also, as I'm sure you must have noticed, Skyhold is freezing."

The chain of office Josephine removes herself and sets it down carefully over the arm of the settee. It's a brief interlude that allows them to catch their breath, slow the pace to something less frantic.

When they kiss again it's unhurried and searching, exploring each other's mouths as their hands roam. 

Thankfully the Inquisitor's outfit is quite a bit easier to deal with, since she'd already taken off her jacket while she waited for Josephine's arrival. It's so simple for Josephine to just pull the thin undershirt free of Naevys's trousers, to let her hands slide under the loose cotton. 

The touch is warm, teasing, as Josephine's palms move up over her ribs. 

Finally, the blouse is open and Naevys pushes the silk off Josephine's shoulders. Underneath Josephine's breasts are unbound and bared to the chilly air. They’re full and adorned with a few freckles, much to Naevys's delight. 

A rush of arousal hits Naevys hard as she stares. "May I...?" 

Josephine lowers her head, gazes up through dark lashes. The look of desire in her eyes makes Naevys's stomach twist. "Please do, my darling, but first," she tugs meaningfully at Naevys's undershirt.

Naevys practically rips the garment off.

They come together for another kiss and that first touch of skin against skin has them both sighing. From hip to stomach to breast, there's not a space between them. Naeyvs reaches for Josephine's hands, clasping and entwining their fingers as she walks them backwards.

When they reach the bed, Naevys sits. She watches, mouth gone dry, as Jospehine plants one knee on either side of her hips and settles in Naevys's lap. 

Leaning in, Naevys sets her mouth to one breast, inordinately pleased by the high gasp this earns her. Josephine's hands come to her shoulders to steady herself as Naevys licks around the nipple before closing her lips around the stiff peak and sucking gently. She lavishes the same attention to the other breast, continuing to switch between the two until Josephine is breathing quickly and digging nails into her shoulders. 

When she leans back, Naevys lets her eyes rove over the other woman, skin flushed, chest heaving. She watches, enraptured, as Josephine reaches for the pins holding her hair in place, plucks them out, one by one, dark hair unravelling before Naevys's eyes. 

She's never seen Josephine with her hair down and it's a sight to behold. Thick, wavy locks tumble over Josephine's shoulders and down her back. "So beautiful," Naevys says in a reverential whisper. "Emm'asha."

Josephine raises one hand to her cheek, slightly trembling fingers following the swirling detail of the vallaslin. "Emma vhenan'ara." The pronunciation is a little off but it doesn't lessen the impact of the words, making Naevys’s heart pound a staccato rhythm. 

Josephine tugs on the leather tie holding Naevys's own hair in a tidy bun, letting it loose and combing fingers through straw blonde hair, the uneven ends reaching Naevys's shoulders. 

Their mouths come together again as their hands seek out uncharted skin. Josephine drags her palms up Naevys's torso, cupping and covering her breasts. It causes something in Naevys to unfurl. She unseats Josephine and presses her down onto the bed, swoops to kiss her again.

Fingers remain on Naevys's breasts, now circling and teasing her nipples, rolling them between two fingers. Each tug on them causes an answering throb between her legs. Her arms tremble as she supports her weight, every little sigh and breath from Josephine beneath her making her weaker by the second.

They reposition themselves on the bed, shifting until Naevys's hips are cradled between Josephine's open thighs. Naevys holds herself above her, greedily drinking in the sight of dark hair splayed across her pillows, eyes with pupils blown wide, the expanse of glorious dark bronze skin before her. Josephine reaches for her, one hand curling around the back of Naevys's neck to slant their mouths together, parting her lips to accept the teasing sweep of a tongue.

Losing herself in the contact, it’s long minutes before Naevys becomes gradually aware of the ebb and flow of movement, Josephine arching into her. One hand is tangled in the hair at the nape of Naevys's neck, the other clutching and squeezing absently at the small of her back. Taking this as her cue, Naevys trails kisses over Josephine’s chin, the length of her throat, pausing to drag her teeth over the pulse point, before continuing downwards. She takes her time laving hardened nipples with her lips and tongue, taking each engorged tip into her mouth. Using just the hint of teeth has Josephine straining against her.

“Oh, please…” Josephine says, almost brokenly.

“Please what, Lady Montilyet?” Naevys smiles, biting down gently on a nipple then soothing it with a broad swipe of her tongue.

Josephine yelps something in Antivan that sounds suspiciously like swearing. Her head is tipped back, throat bobbing as she swallows a gulp of air. When Naevys slips a hand between them, she finds dampness at the apex of Josephine’s thighs, soaked right through the silk of her breeches and tights. She rubs two fingers against the seam, testing, and Josephine gasps out. 

“Tell me what you want, ma sa’lath.” 

The look Josephine levels at her, desire unravelling freely across her face, is answer enough. Naevys wastes no time in peeling off Josephine’s remaining clothes and shirking off her own trousers and smalls before settling back between Josephine’s thighs. She continues kissing Josephine’s breasts while her hands stroke down the other woman’s sides until they curve around the backs of her knees. She lifts slightly and Josephine follows her intent, wrapping her legs around Naevys’s waist. The sudden thrilling shock of heat and wetness against her belly has Naevys pressing impossibly closer still.

Again Naevys reaches between them, Josephine’s hips jumping as fingers slide through a dark thatch of curls and brush lightly over her clit. She makes another few passes, edging closer each time to Josephine’s entrance. It’s a marvel, how wet Josephine is.  Of all the achievements in Naevy's life, this is by far the greatest. Closing rifts between this world and the fade? Nothing compared to this.

“Naevys,” Josephine says, voice catching on the last syllable. She’s panting now, soft puffs of breath washing over Naevys’s lips. Her eyes are half-lidded, almost entirely black and Naevys has never seen her look more beautiful.

Holding her breath, she pushes inside Josephine. One finger at first, then she works in a second carefully. They move together, Josephine lifting her hips to meet the slide of fingers, and Naevys can’t help but release a needy moan. Because she’s dreamt of this, guiltily fantasised in idle moments, and now it’s happening. 

She surges forward, mouth clashing against Josephine's, swallowing a litany of Antivan words she doesn't know the meaning of but thinks she understands. Josephine's hands are in her hair, nails scraping against her scalp and causing a delicious shiver to run down her spine.

Hips rock up, driving her fingers deeper with every thrust. Naevys lets her thumb glide up and over Josephine's clit, moving in relentless, ever decreasing circles until the other woman chokes on a high gasp, whole body going rigid for a moment. "Oh! Oh, Naevys, oh my love," Josephine cries out, arching her spine off the bed.

Even though her wrist is aching Naevys doesn't stop, instead slowing the pace to draw out the aftershocks until Josephine's forced to draw her hand away. Their kisses are messy, half-formed, an almost aimless connection of lips amid shortened breath.

"I love you," Naevys says, not caring how awestruck she sounds, knowing she'll never tire of saying those words.

Josephine's smile in response is nothing short of heart-stopping. "I love you, too. Let me show you how much." 

 

 

***

 

A cool breeze blows in from the mountains, buffeting them slightly as they stand next to each other on the balcony, the late afternoon sun combating the chill. Only this morning they'd returned from Val Royeaux, there to witness Vivienne's coronation as Divine Victoria, and this is the first moment they've had to themselves. The fallout from the Inquisition's support for Vivienne had been immediate and Josephine had spent most of the day fending off the outraged nobles still present at Skyhold. The days ahead would be tricky but that's the least of Naevys's concerns at present.

"There's something I want to ask you," she says, trying to keep her voice steady. Truth be told, she's a little terrified. Ridiculous, considering everything they've been through thus far. If she can close an enormous breach in the sky, slay dragons, defeat Corypheus, she can do this.

Josephine turns to her, smiling, and the way the light catches her eyes, vibrantly green in the sunlight, leaves Naevys momentarily stunned into silence. "Yes, my love?"

Naevys has to take a second to gather her thoughts, even though she's rehearsed this countless times in her head. 

"I know in your culture, within the nobility, it isn't permissible for two women to be promised to each other," Naevys says, taking Jospehine's hand. "Such a thing is uncommon among the Dalish but sometimes, with the blessing of the Keeper, two men or two women might be joined before the Clan."

Naevys reaches into the pouch fixed to her belt, feeling around for the item she'd secreted there.

Josephine's gaze falls on the gold ring held between Naevys's thumb and forefinger. "What is - oh!" In an instant, her free hand leaps to her mouth.

As jewellery goes it's nothing extravagant but it didn't seem right to give Josephine one of the fancy rings she regularly loots from chests on her adventures. Instead Naevys kept aside her small monthly stipend drawn from the Inquisition's coffers, saving a little each month, until she could return to Val Royeaux to buy something simple and elegant.

The ambassador's fingers tighten around her own, Josephine's startled expression growing into one of wonderment.

"Maybe we can't be married under Chantry law but - hold on, I read it's customary to..." Naevys drops fluidly to one knee, earning a soft gasp from her companion and she smiles tremulously. "There, better. Where was I? Oh, yes. Josephine Cherette Montilyet, would you accept this as a token of my enduring - " 

"Yes!" Josephine blurts, now clutching her chest as if trying to contain the pounding of her heart. "A thousand times, yes."

With shaking hands, Naevys slips the ring onto Josephine's finger and stands. She pulls the ambassador close, sealing the sentiment with a kiss.  

"I'm yours, always," Josephine says, resting her forehead against Naevys's. They stay like this for a few minutes, content to bask in their closeness and the happiness of the moment.

Suddenly, Josephine sighs. "Goodness, I should make a start on the arrangements immediately. There is so much to do."

"Arrangements?"

Josephine slips out of her arms, beginning to pace.

"Well, we must travel to Antiva for you to meet my parents. My mother will insist on hosting a ball to make proper introductions. A modest affair, a hundred guests perhaps. There is also the matter of a ceremony. Our estate is most beautiful in springtime, the weather not yet too warm, and - " Josephine halts, noticing Naevys biting her lip. "I'm getting carried away, aren't I?"

"No, it's - I don't know. I thought we could enjoy this, just the two of us, for a little while longer." Naevys sidles closer, taking Josephine's hands again and giving what she hopes is her most disarming smile. "But whatever you want, I'll do it."

"Then you should know that now we are engaged, for lack of a better term, we should refrain from... physical relations until our wedding night."

Naevys's smile fades. "What?" In the midst of screwing up her face in contempt she notices the glint in the other woman's eyes. "Oh you... you will pay dearly for that, Lady Montilyet."

"I will hold you to that promise, my darling."

The sound of Josephine's laugh, so light and carefree, brings a smile back to Naevys's lips unbidden. Since this began there have been so few moments of unfettered joy. Now the immediate threat is over (she doesn't doubt there will be many more challenges to come) it feels like they can finally breathe easy.

So she pulls Josephine to her again by the hand, twirls her once, and dips her into a kiss because they're alive and in love and what more could she want?


End file.
